Flesh and Bone
by SundayWinterChild
Summary: Megatron x OC as humans. In a word: smut. Inspired by a crazy conversation and a beautiful drawing. Look inside for more details. Rated M for a very good reason!


Author's Note: This fic was brought about by a conversation between me and the other members of the board that I role-play on. I had mentioned to them that Megatron reminded me very much of the head of a mafia family. The others readily agreed and before long it was decided that it had to be drawn. I have seen the preliminary sketches and that picture helped to breathe life into this. They are flesh and bone in this, not holomatter forms. I did not change names simply because I didn't feel that I could do them justice if I did and I wanted them to be recognizable.

In our RP, Nightstrike, my OC, has in many ways become bonded to Megatron without actually being bonded. Utterly devoted to him and happy for him to lay claim to her, she asked to be marked as a sign to the others whom she belonged to. Her mark spirals down her arm in Cybertronian runes and is actually a quote taken from the Shakespearean play "As You Like It" Act Two, Scene Three.

"_Go on master, and I will follow thee. To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty."_

It has very much become her pledge to Megatron and in the absence of a true bond Nightstrike has accepted that his mark upon her will probably be as close as she ever comes to the physical act of bonding with him.

For those of you curious to see the picture, follow this link: www.tfmtmterp./index.cgi?boardfanart&actiondisplay&thread92&page1

The RP Nightstrike has heavily influenced the Nightstrike in this fic. Now that I have rambled long enough, I will leave you in peace to enjoy. I am always happy for reviews, so if you like, please take a moment to let me know.

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Megatron eyed up his subordinates who were seated around the grand conference table as he leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers and resting his chin on them, deep in thought as those around him argued. There had been a shipment of cocaine that had been intercepted and now his underlings squabbled amongst themselves all trying to pin the blame on each other. The news had been disappointing to say the least, but he had suffered setbacks before and had managed to recover. This time, though, the setbacks were down to one of his foot soldiers' reluctance to follow instructions to the letter. That would have to be dealt with and most severely.

Dark eyes peered at those who surrounded him. On his right was Soundwave, to his left, Shockwave. They were his longest serving and most faithful henchmen and had followed him through both good times and bad unswervingly and without question. He almost trusted them with his life, which was saying something, as he truly trusted no one but himself.

On the other side of Shockwave was Megatron's son, Quicksilver. He had been adamant that he was ready to learn the family business and so Megatron was happy to include him in the meetings and on some of the smaller jobs that required very little effort. Given time, he would be ready for more; of this he had no doubt. He gave a brief, approving glance at his son before moving on.

His eyes landed on Skywarp, Thundercracker and Starscream, who sat on the same side of the table as Soundwave. Overall, they worked well together as a team, but Starscream's unrepentant desire for power and money made him a loose cannon at times. It was nothing that Megatron couldn't keep in check, of course, and he wasn't above beating the smug bastard nearly to death to get his point across. Hell, he wasn't even above shooting him if Starscream had done something bad enough to deserve it (and to be honest, sometimes he did so just for the thrill of it). Knowing that

Starscream was incredibly vain, Megatron always kept it in mind that all he had to do to really keep him in line was to threaten to ruin his pretty-boy looks. This was always his trump card against the arrogant ass and Starscream would invariably back down once threatened with this particular card.

While the shouting and finger pointing continued, Megatron closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead; he was reaching his breaking point and could feel the anger bubbling away in his chest. A hand twitched, ready to reach within his jacket and extract the silver Walther P38 that he always kept concealed on his person and shoot something or someone. Anything, sweet Jesus, just to get them to shut up!

The volume of the disagreement rose, Starscream naturally being heard above the others in his horrible rasp, denying any involvement with the failure of their mission and accusing his partners in crime, Skywarp and Thundercracker of speaking too much and to the wrong people. Megatron had heard enough, his hand went for the gun, but just as it settled on the knurled walnut grip, the room grew deadly silent. His eyelids flew open to see what had made them all shut up (which he was honestly very thankful for) and smirked.

Nightstrike.

Carrying a silver tray loaded with lead crystal glasses of whiskey, she wore a sweet smile and cooed, "I thought you gentlemen may like something to drink. With all the shouting coming from in here I figured that you might need a break."

Violet eyes briefly locked on to Megatron's black and he cocked an eyebrow at her. Just what was she playing at now? Nightstrike always looked immaculate, but tonight she was pulling out all the stops. Delicious curves were wrapped in the sexiest black satin dress, revealing just the right amount of flesh with a plunging neckline and a split up to her hip giving revealing little glimpses of the black silk stockings and garter belt beneath. Round hips swayed slowly as she circled the table, handing out the drinks, giving each man there a smile. It was obvious to Megatron that her smiles were forced for most with the exception of that damnable, reluctant Thundercracker. "Must watch that one", he noted to himself. Her falseness with the others was a good thing though, as he would never stand for his woman to be pawed like a piece of cheap meat. Well, at least not by anyone else but him. Nightstrike saved Megatron's drink for last, making a show of walking back to him, jutting out her breasts a bit more, pouting her lips and putting a wiggle in her walk, all just for his enjoyment.

A slender perfumed wrist presented him with his drink, which he gladly took, allowing a finger to slowly trace along the back of her hand, eliciting a small purr from Nightstrike. Pulling her hand away from his, she ran her perfectly manicured, burgundy painted nails up his arm before retreating to the opposite side of the table, sliding her hands over her hips as she went and casting a coquettish glance over her shoulder at Megatron.

A smirk was hidden by his glass, but it was not difficult to see where his gaze was trained. How could he not look? Perching herself on the edge of the table, she crossed her legs and sipped a glass of wine, trying to act as if she did not notice the eyes studying her back. Looking back over her shoulder once again, she smiled at Megatron. He could see the absolute wickedness twinkling in her beautiful violet eyes, leaving no doubt in his mind she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Don't let me interrupt your meeting." She sipped her drink and as if on cue, the arguing once again ensued, although not for long. Megatron's fist came crashing down on the table making everyone shut up and take notice of their leader.

"Now, I don't know exactly what happened, but I will find out and when I do, whoever caused this fiasco," his eyes locked onto Starscream's, "will pay for it." He leaned forward a bit, once again twining his fingers together, his eyes leaving those of his rather guilty looking deputy to rest on the sight of Nightstrike running one of her delicate hands over her shoulder and up her neck to tuck away a few loose strands of hair.

"I think we'll adjourn for the evening. We can discuss it further tomorrow."

Starscream nodded and motioned for the others to follow him, which they did, giving one another nervous glances. Quicksilver nodded a farewell to his father and mother and quietly slipped from the room.

"But Megatron..." Shockwave started trying to push various reports and bits of paper towards him.

"No Shockwave, if you have something urgent to bring to my attention, send me an e-mail."

"There is still much to discuss, Megatron." Soundwave's face was dark as a thundercloud and his temper no doubt matched it. The glares he gave Nightstrike were full of malice, which neither she nor Megatron missed, but they chose to ignore it.

"I know there is, and it will be, just not at this very moment." He moved towards Soundwave, ushering his second in command towards the door and spoke under his breath, "It was Starscream, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Megatron, he did not follow your instructions and also made the mistake of speaking to an undercover agent."

Megatron's face darkened with rage as he nodded slowly, "I see. Make sure that Starscream is taught the appropriate lesson."

"Yes, Megatron, are there any further orders?"

"Speak to our supplier, inform him of the situation and arrange for alternate means of delivery."

"Yes, sir." Soundwave almost made a small bow to Megatron and started to leave the room.

"Oh, and Soundwave," an animalistic leer spread across Megatron's face, "lock the door behind you."

Soundwave's expression was one of fury as he gave Nightstrike yet another death glare. Nightstrike crossed her arms over her chest and raised a well-shaped eyebrow, openly daring the telepath to read her mind and thought, "Yes, I have him and there's nothing you can do about it. And yes, he's probably going to fuck me as soon as you're gone." Soundwave, always being the opportunist, took advantage and did read her mind; however, he was not pleased with what she told him so he turned sharply on one heel and stormed out of the room, slamming and then locking the door behind him. Nightstrike smiled more as she listened to heavy footsteps on the marble floor recede down the hall.

"You must torment him?" Megatron gave her an amused look.

"Of course I must. He can never forget who you belong to." Still seated on the end of the table, Nightstrike tossed her head playfully and gave Megatron a sly look out of the corner of her eyes as he walked back to his seat.

"I belong to you, do I? I do hope you are joking. Otherwise, I will have to return this." He produced a black lacquered box and moved towards her.

Nightstrike smiled as she eyed the box. What could it be? Was it more diamonds or keys to another car? Oh, she knew that she was a kept woman, yet another trophy that he happily displayed. She was, though, a trophy that he jealously guarded and she often had to wonder if perhaps his feelings went more deeply than he would admit. It was not lost on her that she was given a longer leash than many of those around him and it was something that she did not take for granted. Nightstrike always made sure she paid in kind, whether that meant playing the gracious hostess, adorning his arm at some function or other, or even bearing his children. Giving him a yet another sweet smile, she tilted her head and continued to consider the box.

"I wonder what you've gotten me now."

Now standing in front of her, Megatron gave her a crooked grin as he leaned close, their bodies mere inches apart. He could feel the warmth of her radiating out against his own body and the smell of her perfume wafted up to him. It was a light scent, simple and pure and he took a deep breath, smelling both the perfume and her own natural scent. He had to admit it was a powerful and heady mix. With his fingertips, he pushed the box onto the table and well beyond her reach. "That would be telling. So, you have no choice but to open it and see what is in there."

"Mm, no, I suppose I don't have a choice." She said while straightening his tie.

"Go on then."

"But my love, I cannot reach it." Her voice tinkled with light amusement over the situation. Never the fool, she knew what he was trying to get her to do, but she also knew that it was fun to make him suffer a bit.

Unable to hold back any further, his hands slipped around her waist and held to it tightly as he pulled her down off the table. With a soft growl in her ear he said, "Why don't you try leaning over the table to get it."

"Of course, why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you are a tease, that is why." Megatron's hands slipped across her lower back and then down over her backside, giving her a sharp smack to which she jumped and gasped before letting a wicked grin play across her lips.

"Very well then, I'll get the box, shall I?" She slowly turned, feeling his hands sliding against the satin as they came to rest on her hips, moving in slow circles. Nightstrike leaned as far forward as she could, but before she reached the box, Megatron's hands landed on her shoulders, squeezing for a moment before sliding down her arms and pinning her hands beneath his own. Hungry lips graced

the back of her neck and shoulders with smouldering kisses and nips. In a desperate bid to relieve the growing heat between her legs, she rocked her hips back against his, feeling the hardness there and hearing the quiet purr he let out.

"Open the box." A low rumble was spoken into her hair which made Nightstrike's breathing speed up and her heart race while her trembling hands reached for the black box. Another low growl against her neck sent a shiver through her, but shivers soon turned to quaking as his hands wrapped around her waist, gliding up her stomach to catch her breasts. Cupping their voluptuousness, he fondled them and teased her nipples by rolling them between his thumb and forefinger before giving them a hard tweak. Nightstrike's fingers curled into fists and her head bowed as a low groan fell from her lips. Her hips bucked back yet again, this time they were met by his grinding against her delightfully round ass.

"The box. Now." Although he was reluctant to, he stepped back from Nightstrike, smug about the fact that from a few simple touches he could get her so worked up. Of course, he had to admit, it was something that went both ways as the mere sight and sound of her becoming aroused was at times almost more than he could handle. Even now, as she was bent over with her nails digging into the richly varnished surface of the table, Megatron fought the urge to take her then and there. Instead he resisted and patiently waited for her breathing to return to normal and her shaking to stop, his hand lovingly stroking her back all the while. Once she had recovered sufficiently, her trembling fingers reached out and caressed the smooth, cool blackness of the lacquer and released the catch. With a small creak, the box lid opened and she peered at what lay nestled in its red velvet lining.

A gun.

Not just any gun though. Oh no. This was something special. It was a Walther PPS 9mm that he had made especially for her. Her fingers lightly ran over the engraving upon it and marvelled at the intricacy of the pattern. Carefully she picked it up and tested its weight in her hand, approving greatly over the way it felt perfectly balanced. Instead of the usual plain black grip, it had been given a knurled mother of pearl grip. It was sleek and easy to handle and conceal due to its small size.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." She stood with her feet shoulder width apart and aimed for a vase on the mantle, getting used to the feel of it in her hand. Moving behind her, Megatron wrapped his arms around her waist while nuzzling the back of her neck and nibbling on her ears.

"I couldn't let you go around with that useless gun you had any longer. It was an embarrassment."

His left hand slipped into the split of her skirt and starting at her hip, raked his fingers down her thigh, following the garter belt to the top of her stockings. Teasingly, his fingers dipped beneath the lace and his nails scratched against her inside of her leg until he heard her breath catch. Removing his hand from the smoothness of bare skin, he skimmed down the luxurious silk stocking until he found the holster with the diamond studded buckle strapped firmly to her supple thigh then removed her old weapon, unloaded the bullets from the chamber and then threw it down on the table. Seizing the new weapon from her hand, Megatron removed his own firearm from its usual hiding place beneath his left arm and laid both side by side on the table. Nothing was said, but what

he was trying to point out was clear; both guns had matching engravings with the exception of what had become her pledge to Megatron.

Turning to look at him, it was obvious that he was deep in thought as his dark eyes seemed to take on a distant look. Attempting to read every line of his face and looking for some indication of what the significance of the matching pistols might have meant Nightstrike could see none. Still desperate to fathom what might his message to her might be, her violet eyes gazed into his ebony eyes and still found nothing. It could have meant a hundred things, really. At best, it was a token of love. At worst, the gift was nothing more than another reminder of how he owned her. Still searching his eyes, Nightstrike sighed. If nothing else, Megatron had become very good at hiding the true meaning of his words and actions and she had long since given up any childish notions of true romance or love with the crime boss along with trying to guess what might be going through his mind.

Megatron raised an eyebrow at her and quietly asked, "Are you pleased?"

"Of course I am. You do spoil me."

Megatron smiled and tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes for a moment before whispering against her lips, "Then show me your gratitude." He did not give her a chance to answer as he kissed her deeply, the tip of his tongue slowly tracing her lips before dipping into her mouth and circling her tongue with his own. During the kiss, her fingers danced up his chest and undid his tie and pulled it from around his neck, letting it drop to the floor. Megatron's arms had been wrapped tightly around her waist but now his fingers ran up and down her spine, mapping out each of her vertebrae until they found the zipper pull. With a gentle tug, the zipper running down her back was undone and he dragged his fingers up her back and across her shoulders, pulling the spaghetti straps down her arms, causing her dress fall to the floor revealing the black satin corset that was richly embellished with silver embroidery. Standing back to look at her for a moment, he growled appreciatively at the sight and grabbed her hips, pulling her against him and leaving no doubt who was in charge. Trailing kisses along her jaw and her throat, he worked to free her of the corset and cursed it for both its sheer sexiness and the level of aggravation it presented in removing it. Nightstrike found his frustration amusing and laughed softly in his ear while removing his jacket, holster and then undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal his chiselled chest. Gentle fingers touched old scars and touches were followed by light kisses over the reminders of battles long past.

Smirking down at her, he finally reached the final clasp of the corset's busk, rapidly unhooked it and removed the infuriating piece of clothing, throwing it aside triumphantly and relishing the sight of her perfect breasts and small waist. Rough hands roamed over creamy skin, savouring the feel of every inch of her and the way soft flesh yielded to his touch. Once again he nipped her earlobe, laving it with his tongue. A whimper issued from her as her nails dug into his back making him hiss with the pain and pleasure of it.

Picking her up and setting her on the table, his fingers snapped at the garter belt that still held up her stockings, making her jump and then smirk at him. For a moment, their eyes locked and each could see what the other wanted as sheer desire and wantonness filled them, pushing them forward and urging them on. Another passionate kiss was exchanged while he removed her holster then unfastened the clips of the garter belt. He pulled away from her and smirked as his fingertips

started to roll the tops of the stockings down. The feathery feel of his touches made her shake and she shifted her hips in an effort to give him an indication of what she needed. What had started as a dull, aching need had grown into a frantic need to have him inside of her. The signal had not gone unnoticed, but was ignored for the moment in favour of continuing to push her further into wild, passionate abandon.

While kissing her, he laid her back on the table, working his way down to her breasts with warm kisses. Cupping one of her breasts in his left hand, his thumb brushed over her nipple lightly, to which she responded by arching up to meet the touch. Her fingers ran through his hair and her nails scratched at the back of his neck sending a frisson down his spine. While his fingers kneaded the one nipple, he took the other in his mouth, tonguing it, suckling it and finally giving it a sharp nip. Whimpering gave way to a small cry and she yet again raised her hips against him allowing him to feel the damp heat hidden between her legs. Watching her face, one of his hands slid down her stomach, over the small mound of her lower abdomen and finally his fingers slipped into her wetness. Biting her lip to stifle the moans, her eyes fluttered open for a moment to look at him as he continued to tease her by slowly dipping his fingers in and out of her.

"P-please..."

"Not yet."

She groaned and panted, trying to shift so his hand would touch that bit of her what so urgently needed his attention. A smile played on his lips as he watched her writhe helplessly beneath him and the scent of her desire filled the air with a dark and musky perfume. Everything about her, from the sounds she was making to the way her face held the look of one who was on the edge to the way she grew more wet with every passing second made his heart pound and thunder in his ears. A primal desire wanted nothing more than to thrust himself deep inside of her and be done with it, but it lost out to the fact that he loved to see her like this. It was power. And Megatron loved having power over others. Her cries and whimpers had gone to begging and pleading and fortunately for her, it had not fallen on deaf ears. Falling to his knees, he spread her legs as far as they would go and lapped greedily at her, his tongue flicking lightly over her labia and finally her clitoris. A few slow, broad licks was all it took and Nightstrike sat bolt upright as she reached her climax, practically screaming as she did so. Red talons clawed at his back and his own hands gripped her waist fiercely, his tongue never stopping until she slumped forward, shaking, panting and mumbling incoherently. Standing, he held her against him for a moment before looking into dazed violet eyes and kissing her deeply.

A satisfied Nightstrike made nothing more than a small groan when Megatron turned her around and bent her over the table, slipping his cock deep inside of her. He grabbed her hips and began thrusting against her, loving the way her wet pussy felt. Soon, he was aware of her pushing back against him in time to his strokes. Faster they moved, both gasping and sweating from their efforts. Muscles tightened, breathing became more difficult and blood rushed wildly until it all reached a crescendo. Fingers twitched and then dug into her sides and with one last push, his head fell back as his orgasm tore through him, releasing everything deep inside of Nightstrike. A deep groan of pleasure sounded from his throat as he leaned forward and pressed his chest against her back then laid his head on her shoulder for a moment before placing gentle kisses on her neck and shoulders that made her shudder. Racing hearts seemed to beat in time for a moment and all that could be

heard in the room was their breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. His hand brushed up her side then down her arm to where it came to rest over her hand briefly before their fingers intertwined.

After some time, they faced one another and embraced and Nightstrike tucked her head under his chin, just listening to the beating of his heart, wishing she could hear some coded message hidden within it. Stroking her back in a loving gesture, both lovers basked in the afterglow with their bodies pleasantly limp from their efforts and drowsiness starting to overcome them both. Megatron became aware of Nightstrike's wide and oddly innocent eyes gazing into his black and fathomless eyes as she whispered to him.

"I love you."

Megatron looked down at the woman pressed to his chest and brushed her cheek with his thumb. All he could do was nod in acknowledgement of her words before giving her a tender kiss. Nightstrike had grown accustomed to this, to him being unable to say those three simple words. Once the kiss was broken, she slipped her dress on and gathered the rest of her scattered clothes. Moving towards the door, Nightstrike was taken by surprise when a hand clasped her wrist and pulled her from the door.

"Come to bed with me tonight."

A sad smile crossed her lips and she nodded. Megatron kissed her once again and then, with a devilish grin, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the dark stairs to his room.


End file.
